


Early Mornings

by yaknownyan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Post-Canon, basically married sheith, but briefly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 01:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaknownyan/pseuds/yaknownyan
Summary: Shiro exhaled a satisfied sigh, hands roaming around Keith's back. They were warm apart from the cold of Shiro's metal prosthetic and his wedding ring, and Keith could feel his touch tracing the outline of his scapula, moving through the bumps of his spine and finally stopping on his ass cheeks, giving the firm muscles a squeeze.He pulled away and moved his attention to Keith's neck instead. That earned him a pleased hum and fingers running through the black and silver strands of his hair."Well someone is awake..." He joked.





	Early Mornings

 

Keith woke up to snoring. He should be used to it by now, but there was a reason Shiro always slept on his side. 

The man looked delicate, even though his bulking appearance should suggest otherwise. Keith's fingers itched to run across miles of tanned skin littered with faded scars, but he was too scared to wake Shiro up. Rising before Shiro used to be a rare occurrence before the war ended, and even though it was almost routine now that they moved back to the desert shack, he would never get used to the way he looked like in the morning; ethereal. Almost blinding, as if he was reflecting the sunlight that crept through the makeshift curtains on the windows of their room. However, his plump lips were open to reveal loud and constant rumbles, like a broken tractor trying to work through mud. Keith still thought of him as the most beautiful person in the whole world. Love is not blind, but deaf. 

He sat up, careful not to disturb his slumber by slowly detaching himself from his grip. Shiro was also a very cuddly sleeper, and it would incredibly endearing if he didn't blare like a horn once in deep dream. He picked up a shirt from the floor, not even bothering to see if it was his, and put it on while on his way to the kitchen.

The window in the living room was open, revealing the vast expanse of the Garrison's desert. Living alone in this place for over a year, coping with loss and abandonment, Keith had never expected to miss this view. He realised how mistaken he was during their first night back, straight after the escape pod Allura had programmed for them crashed onto land, and Keith felt a wave of nostalgia suddenly rock inside him as the the dry air filled his lungs, and the ground sinked underneath his boots. 

The dunes were always irregular, but Keith used to remember their dips and bumps like the callouses on the palms of his hands. He was almost relieved when he realised the geographical complexion of the only place he ever called home had changed completely.

It wasn't familiar anymore. It was just another desert.

That meant the times where he had been aching for Shiro's return were long gone, and were to be replaced with new memories, new dunes.

Although there were streaks of sunlight sneaking through the grey clouds, it was a very cold morning. It didn't help that his legs were bare as he moved around the kitchen, placing the filter paper on the cone shaped utensil and pouring in freshly grinded coffee beans as he waited for the water to boil on the stove. He prepared some toast, already knowing how Shiro liked his breakfast and planning to bring it to him in bed. Maybe they could go on a walk later too. Were Lance, Hunk and Pidge on Garrison duty today?

His thoughts were interrupted by long arms wrapping around his torso, and warm kisses pressing into his nape. He shivered at the unexpected contact, and if he didn't know better, he would have probably elbowed the intruder on the ribs.

But he knew better; he recognised those arms better than anyone else. He leaned into the touch.

"You left me." Shiro murmured, pressing more kisses on his neck.

"I only got up to make breakfast." 

The answer wasn't enough for Shiro, apparently, as he kept grumbling while burying his face into the crook between the shirt and Keith's back, "You need to shave."

Keith turned around, giving his husband a peck on his lips while ignoring his complaints about his morning stubble. That seemed to satisfy Shiro very much, "You're so needy, you know."

"Am I?"

"Yeah. It was only for five minutes. That's not even enough time to process I was gone."

"It's only because I..." he stopped mid-sentence as he looked down and blinked, as if trying to process something "...you're wearing my shirt."

He sounded incredibly confused, voice thick with sleep and words rolling roughly on his tongue. Keith found it adorable, "Yeah, it was on my side of the bed, so I just wore it."

Shiro swallowed, and Keith watched closely as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, "You look good in it."

"Do I, now?" Keith locked his arms around Shiro's waist, huddling up to him "Your shirts smell like you, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That's why I like wearing them."

They kissed. It's amazing how, no matter how many times they did that, Keith's stomach still flipped like it was the first. Obviously, without sheer fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins as he cradled a heavily injured Shiro on his arms, and the terrified screams from both their friends and civilians fighting an ongoing battle. But the goosebumps and the loud thumping of his heart remained the same after the five years they've been together.

Shiro exhaled a satisfied sigh, hands roaming around Keith's back. They were warm apart from the cold of Shiro's metal prosthetic and his wedding ring, and Keith could feel his touch tracing the outline of his scapula, moving through the bumps of his spine and finally stopping on his ass cheeks, giving the firm muscles a squeeze. 

He pulled away and moved his attention to Keith's neck instead. That earned him a pleased hum and fingers running through the black and silver strands of his hair. 

"Well someone is awake..." He joked.

Shiro's only response was a playful bite on the juncture of Keith's neck and shoulder, which didn't do anything to relieve his shuddering, followed by lips kissing the faint pink mark and tongue swiping over his quickening pulse. He closed his eyes, feeling Shiro's member hardening and weighing on top his hip, and the latter moving his own to find some relief from his restrain. 

" _Shiro_..." Keith managed between ragged breaths.

"Did you,  _ah..._ take the trash out yesterday?" Shiro asked in between kisses.

"No."

He groaned, stopping mid sucking a mark to glare at his husband, "Keith, I've been telling you to take it out since  _Wednesday!"_

Keith frowned, "I  _really_  don't want to think about the bag filled with trash from our Chinese takeout night with Hunk, Lance and Pidge when I'm about to have sex with you."

But Shiro insisted, "Keith, that Kung Pao Chicken is expired! The kitchen will be smelling for  _months!"_

"They're not going to expire two days after we ordered them, honey." The nickname had an obvious effect on him, and Keith smirked. He planted a kiss on Shiro's jawline, shifting closer to him until his back touched the counter  "Now, where were we?"

He leaned up for another kiss, but his lips met Shiro's hand instead.

"I'm not doing this unless you take the trash out."

"Shiro,  _please._ I promise I'll do it afterwards."

Shiro stared at him knowingly. If this year living with Keith taught him something, is that his husband was not gonna take the trash out afterwards like he promised. 

Apparently, Keith knew that himself, because he sighed in defeat as he moved away from Shiro. He practically dragged his way across the kitchen to get the trash bags near the sink, bearing heavy steps and a childish pout as he put on his flip-flops and went out the door to drop the black bags into the colour coded cans near the house. Shiro watched him through the window, opting to be useful as well and sneaking to their bedroom without Keith noticing he was leaving.

Even though living in exile in an abandoned shack in the desert gave them the perfect opportunity to fuck like rabbits without being bothered by nearby neighbours, their sex life soon became monotonous as the reality of their marriage settled in. Both with their own jobs at the Garrison, they barely had time or energy to do anything in the comfort of their own bed. The same bed Shiro was now slipping in, wiggling out of his black boxer briefs and laying down completely nude.

This was their first rest in weeks - he had every right to feel excited. 

He heard the faint creaking of the porch, followed by the sound of the front door being shut with a slam (Keith had probably kicked it). He waited and chuckled when he heard a confused sound, and approaching, yet hesitant footsteps.

"Shiro?"

"Over here, baby."

The door opened just as Shiro took himself in hand, lazily jerking off. Keith took in the view, leaning on the wooden frame and nonchalantly crossing his arms, "Well, what do we have here?"

He crooked a finger, teasingly inviting him to come closer. Keith was immediately hooked, closing the entrance behind him as he climbed onto the bed as well, straddling Shiro with both legs on each side of his thighs as he eagerly took off his...  _Shiro's_  shirt. Shiro's eyes followed the trail of skin being uncovered as Keith hoisted the fabric up to his neck, grabbing it and carelessly tossing it somewhere near the bed. 

"See, this is why you keep stealing my shirts by accident." He joked, and Keith let out an annoyed huff as he moved on to take off his own boxers as well, sighing in relief when they finally made direct contact with each other.

He grinded against him lazily, cheeks going red, and Shiro's cock twitches at the sight. 

He hummed, "So, how are we going to do this?"

"I want you inside me." Keith says, simply. Shiro would be surprised by his straightforwardness if he wasn't used to handling it for years. He knows better than to refuse something from Keith, even though if he really wanted to switch, Keith would be perfectly okay with it. But he felt guilty, as if he had been neglecting his husband for work, and he wanted this to be special enough to serve as an apology.

He rests a hand on Keith's hip, a gesture as natural to him as breathing, and used his free hand to open the drawer on the cupboard next to his side of the bed. He blindly grasped the objects he was looking for, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he waved the lube and the packet of condoms he had bought with Keith just the previous week. Keith snorted, and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

"Ow!" He fake whimpered, rubbing where Keith had hit him, "That hurt!"

Keith rolled his eyes, "Stop being a dork, and hurry up!"

He rolled his hips for emphasis, and Shiro's breath hitched.

"Alright, alright, alright. Want me to do it or you want to prep yourself?"

Shiro knew the answer by looking into his eyes.

He dipped his metal fingers into the liquid, as Keith nestled closer to his upper body, thighs resting against either sides of his chest. He lifted himself up, giving Shiro enough space to reach back and rub his finger against his hole. He hesitantly pushed it in, and Keith shakes. He pumps it in and out, waiting until Keith's walls loosen up around him and until he's riding back on the digit before pushing another in. He starts crooking them, looking for his prostate, and Keith grunts as he rocks on them, silently begging for more. Shiro complies, giving him another finger, scissoring him open and finally finding the bundle of nerves before Keith hastily grabbed his wrist, a thin layer of swear glimmering on his skin.

Shiro pulls them out, wiping them on the bedsheets. Keith grimaced, but Shiro blatantly ignored it as he spread lube on himself, rolling on a condom before lubing himself up a few more times for good measure. He aligned himself on Keith, and waited for his impatient growl before thrusting up. 

Keith's back arched as he sank in, and Shiro had to stop himself from mercilessly pounding on to him as he wished. They let out twin moans once he had run out, and they stopped for a moment, so Keith could adjust to him. Shiro soothingly rubbed his thumb on top of Keith's hipbone as the man panted, smiling softly at him when they exchanged gazes. Without breaking eye contact, Keith began moving his hips up and down in slow, circular motions. Shiro tightened his grip on his waist, throwing his head back as Keith started to bounce on him, his breathing matching his quickening pace.

"God, we needed this." Shiro murmured, stuck between screwing his eyes shut or watching Keith absolutely wrecking himself on him. He chose the latter, taking in the sight that is Keith on top of him, filthily propping himself up and down while clenching around him. He parted his hair using his fingers, not once stopping his thrusts, and gave him a quick wink. Shiro almost tipped over the edge, grunting, "You're going to kill me someday."

Keith didn't reply, fucking himself on Shiro with an animalistic hunger that left the both of them gasping for air. Shiro helped him, thrusting upwards, hitting Keith on his prostate over and over again. He screamed, and Shiro definitely felt lucky that they lived in the middle of nowhere. He humped harder, grabbing Keith's waist and helping him go faster. " _Fuck, fuck, fuck_."

He let his noises slip out shamelessly, and Shiro digged his nails on Keith's skin, which made him visibly shiver. He explored further, fingers tracing forgotten scars on Keith's body, a result of many years of relentless battle to retrieve the universe. He kissed one that stroke Keith's chest, mirroring a gesture Keith himself gave him on the scar that decorated the bridge of his nose, a long time ago, in a distant memory. Keith whimpered, and came without warning, drowning in ecstasy as he reached his high.

It didn't take long for Shiro to reach his limit too, thrusting two or three times before spilling inside the condom, the sweat gathering on his back dampening the sheets.

Keith took a moment or two to breathe before slipping Shiro off of him. He winced, both at the emptiness and at the screaming pain on his thighs. He flopped down next to Shiro, who used the last of his remaining stamina to roll around and wrap him around his arms while the both of them tried to catch their breaths. 

"Wow." Keith said at last, breaking their silence, "That was..."

"Incredible." Shiro finished for him, smooching his shoulder. " _You're_ incredible."

"...Did you buy any milk in the supermarket yesterday?"

"Fuck."

 

 


End file.
